


Eyes Like Him

by Lush_Specimen



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Gen, Past Torture, Post-Canon, Recovery, Spinister has a crush on Fort Max, hugs for max, slight minimegs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-02
Updated: 2019-04-02
Packaged: 2019-12-30 19:52:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18321866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lush_Specimen/pseuds/Lush_Specimen
Summary: Eager to put Garrus 9 completely behind him, Fortress Maximus agrees to join the Lost Light on their inter-dimensional road trip. Unfortunately such severe trauma is not so easily left behind as an unexpected memory comes back to haunt him. Although he's struggled with flashbacks before, this time Max is not alone. He has a dedicated support system, whether he wants them or not.





	Eyes Like Him

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this as a follow-up to my other Fort Max fic "Broken Pieces", but it is not required reading. This fic works fine as a stand alone story.

Fortress Maximus pressed back against the wall, straining to hear the slightest sound of movement in the darkness ahead. He checked his weapon again, carefully racking the slide to verify that he had one round in the chamber. Only 19 rounds remained in the magazine and he would need them all before the day was over. Max winced as the floor creaked under his substantial weight when he inched forward. Stealth never was his strong suit. 

A soft metallic scape sounded just ahead on the right. Max slowly shifted his finger off the guard to rest lightly on the trigger. Despite the overwhelming urge to race forward, guns blazing, Max forced himself to wait. With limited resources, he needed to make every shot count. 

The shuffling slowly grew louder; something or someone was drawing near. When all his circuits started to twitch, he couldn’t wait anymore. Max leapt around the corner, leveling his weapon at the distinct silhouette of wings. He fired three shots in rapid succession and grinned at the unmistakable smack of each round hitting its mark: one, two, three. Standing up to his full height, Max mimed the gesture of blowing smoke from his gun barrel. 

“Alright, Misfire, you’re out!” 

The pink jet looked down at the three suction cup darts plastered to his chest and giggled. “You can’t kill me, if I’m alright dead!” He dramatically spun around and fell over to reveal a multitude of darts firmly stuck all over the back of his wings and Fulcrum crouched in his shadow. 

“AH HA!” Fulcrum jumped up and aimed his dart gun at Max. “Corpse Shield Maneuver!” 

“Hey! No fair!” Max laughed as he dodged Fulcrum’s terribly aimed shots, foam darts ricocheting wildly of the walls. 

“That’s a terrible name for a move,” Crankcase grumbled without looking up from his datapad. “And you're almost as bad a shot as Misfire. How can you keep missing? Max makes for a gigantic target.” 

“Can it, Grumpybox!” Fulcrum yelled, sticking his tongue out as he tried to line up a better shot, which Max easily dodged. 

“Tell Cons4eva I said hi!” Max shouted before firing a shot back, narrowly missing Fulcrum's helm. 

“Primus! Did you ever luck out!” Misfire grinned at Crankcase, still sprawled 'dead' in the middle of the hallway. “Good thing dire wraiths are inter-dimensional beings. Come to think of it, with all those options why does Cons4eva continue to go out with you?” 

“Shut up, Misfire.” 

“No really! I mean he could date literally anyone else in any universe! Just think of all the possibilities! Maybe one universe even has a Crankcase with a proper personality!” 

Ignoring Misfire completely, Crankcase sent another message then shouted, “Hey, Max! Cons4eva says hi back!” 

Suddenly a vent in the ceiling opened up and Krok dropped down, landing lightly on his feet with a dart gun in each hand. He flung his arms wide, simultaneously aiming at both Fulcrum and Max. Fulcrum yelped as a barrage of darts struck his armored chest plate. Max laughed and dove for cover. 

When Max threw himself around the corner, it felt like he slammed into a solid wall. He shook his head to clear his circuits and found a matte gray bot nearly as big as himself sprawled at his feet. 

“Sorry about that!” Rubbing the back of his helm with a sheepish grin, Max reached down to help the bot he collided with to his feet. “We’re playing Shoot Shoot Bang Bang and didn’t think anyone else was down here.” 

“No harm done, I’m sure.” Megatron chuckled and accepted his hand with a smile. “Normally, you’d be right except that the floor on the upper deck is apparently made out of ‘hot lava’ today. I was just looking for a peaceful way across the ship. I can deal with Rewind and Tailgate clamoring up my legs to avoid the floor, but Rodimus, Drift and Whirl all pounced on me at once. Although I never actually agreed to play, Thunderclash volunteered to take my place.” 

Max laughed, meeting Megatron’s optics before bracing himself to pull the large bot up. Megatron’s deep crimson optics glowed with amusement, so bright, so vibrant, so much like his own. Max froze. 

_You know, you have eyes just like him._

That all too familiar voice echoed in his head. All the strength bled out of his arms. He dropped Megatron with a crash and his dart gun clattered to the floor. 

_-you have eyes just like him._

Max shivered, tormented by the ghost of a rough caress on his face, of unwelcome fingers trailing along the seams of his armor. 

_-have eyes just like him._

Staggering back a step, Max’s engine began to race. 

_-eyes just like him._

Megatron’s brow furrowed and his mouth moved, but Max couldn’t hear anything over the whine of his own overheating vent fans and the increasing volume of the voice resounding in his head. 

_-just like him._

Max shut his optics and tried desperately to stop the flood of memories. He had to focus on something else fast before he got lost. 

_-like him._

Too late. He couldn’t escape. He was strapped to that table again, pinned down by heavy chains and powerful magnets. His severed arms lay in a careless heap on the floor along with ragged chunks of his mangled tank treads. The sickeningly sweet tang of spilled energon filled the air. Overlord loomed over him, casually admiring his fingertips as he transformed them into whirling drills. 

_You know, you have eyes just like him._

He didn’t have the strength to resist, to run away. Everything hurt and his low fuel warning had been screaming at him for weeks. 

_So bright. So vibrant._

He struggled in vain to transform, his transformation cog exploding in pain as it ground repeatedly against the inhibitor claw and armor panels shuddered over missing parts. 

_And I can’t stand it._

Max didn’t want to scream when those drills plunged into his optics. He didn’t want to give Overlord the satisfaction. But he did. He screamed until his vocal processor gave out. 

Running on pure instinct, he engaged his transformation cog now. It spun so freely that it practically sang. Every single one of his joints smoothly shifted as his armor rearranged itself into his massive tank mode. He instantly locked and loaded all the weapons bristling his heavily armed frame. 

In the split second before he fired a full barrage, a fierce wind whipped protectively around him. Max hesitated. There was no wind in that torture chamber on Garrus 9. Gradually, the steady cadence of helicopter rotors drowned out Overlord’s echoing voice. Max looked down the barrels of his guns to find Megatron, frozen in place, once bright optics dimmed with hurt and confusion. 

“Oh no-” Max whispered. 

Spinister hovered directly above him, filling the hall with gale force wind. Misfire slowly edged between him and Megatron, palms up in a non-threatening gesture. The foam darts still plastered all over his armor waved wildly in Spin's prop wash. 

“Take it easy, Max.” Misfire said in a gentle reassuring tone. He took another small step forward and Grimlock appeared at his side in dino mode. “It’s okay.” 

“No, it’s not.” Max answered quietly, focused on Megatron’s pained expression. 

“That’s fair.” Misfire nodded taking another step. “Tell you what, why don’t you put the guns down and tell us about it?” Grimlock mirrored Misfire’s nod with a growl. 

Max realized with a shock that Misfire and Grimlock had slowly maneuvered themselves in front of the guns he had aimed at Megatron, standing directly in his line of fire. He shifted into reverse and backed away from them as fast as he could, before he hurt someone. He raced down the hall until he slammed into the far wall. Transforming back into bot mode, he hugged his knees to his chest. 

Spinister had followed him and also transformed back into bot mode. He seated himself next to Max’s right side, as close as possible without touching him. Max glanced at him out of the corner of his optic and the beginnings of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. Always considerate of others’ personal space, Spinister would never initiate any physical contact without express permission. Despite his shivering, Max managed a slight nod. Spin immediately leaned over, nestling snuggly against Max’s side. Spin was extremely perceptive for someone whose grip on reality was tenuous at best. Once Misfire had called him Max’s Emotional Support Helicopter in jest, but Spin embraced the title with his whole spark. He paid attention to Max’s struggles and learned what helped and what didn’t. Since Max almost always transformed during his flashbacks, Spin generally followed suit. The steady cadence of his thumping rotors usually brought Max gently back to reality. 

The reassuring physical presence helped calm Max’s erratic circuitry. His racing engine slowed to an almost comfortable idle. He carefully examined his trembling hands, relieved to find them exactly as they should be. Leaning against Spin reassured Max that he was safe and whole and among friends. Having seen Megatron off, the rest of the Scavengers gathered around them. 

“I’m really sorry,” Max muttered, curling tighter around himself 

“For what?” Misfire cocked his head to one side. 

“Well, first of all for ruining a really good game.” 

“Relax, you didn’t ruin the game.” Crankcase whipped out his dart gun and fired several rapid shots. Max jerked his head back in surprise as a foam dart smacked his nose. “You just lost.” Darts quickly struck all of the other Scavengers, including Grimlock. Crankcase whirled his gun around one finger by the guard. “Looks like I win again!” 

“CRANKCASE, YOU LUGNUT!” Misfire shouted, several new darts stuck to his helm. “You weren’t even playing!” 

“I never said I wasn’t playing.” 

“You were texting Cons4eva the entire time!” 

“What?” Crankcase shrugged. “Unlike you, I can do two things at once.” 

“That’s IT!” Misfire tackled Crankcase. 

A tentative smile spread across Max’s face as he plucked the foam dart off of his nose with shaky fingers. He really appreciated the Scavengers’ support. They never ran away when he struggled. More importantly, they never treated him like glass, like some fragile thing that needed delicate care. Things happened, you got through them, and moved on. Max relaxed a little more when Grimlock curled his massive dino form around his left side. 

While the Misfire and Crankcase scuffled, rolling around on the ground, Max collected his thoughts. Although they had become less frequent, flashbacks of Garrus 9 still plagued him. As terrible as they were for him, those waking nightmares could be downright dangerous to anyone around him. Since he lacked any capacity for defending himself during his long captivity, bad memories usually triggered an intense need for all his anatomical weaponry. He could never let those things happen to him ever again. Shoot first, apologize later. 

“Seriously, though,” Max sighed. “I could have killed him.” 

“Who? MEGATRON?!” Misfire scoffed, wriggling out of Crankcase’s headlock. “No offense, big bot, but no one can kill Megatron, especially by accident!” 

“I don’t think he even can die.” Fulcrum added. 

“Not only did he start civil wars on two separate Cybertrons, he finished them too.” Krok nodded. 

“Yeah! I mean not even Overlo- oof!” Misfire doubled over when Fulcrum elbowed him hard in the midsection, noticing how Max’s plating tensed. 

“What this idiot was trying to say is that Megatron is a uniquely durable Cybertronian. You might have scuffed his paint, but you certainly wouldn’t have killed him.” 

“I might have hurt you...” Max focused on his feet, unable to meet any of their optics. 

Grimlock wriggled his head over Max’s feet and looked up at him, huge saurian optics glowing gently. “But you didn’t.” 

“That’s right.” Krok folded his arms across his chest. “Don’t dwell on what might have happened. Tell us about what did happen.” 

Max shut his optics. Part of him wanted to tell them because maybe sharing the pain would leave less of it for him to carry on his own. He hugged himself a little tighter. Another part still burned with shame at what happened to him. Like it was all somehow his fault. He had size and strength and no small amount of pugilistic prowess, but it wasn’t enough. If he had only been stronger, he could have defended himself, defended everyone else. Rung reassured him that his years of torment were the sole result of Overlord’s sadism not some deficiency on his part. Whenever something like this happened, those stubborn doubts resurfaced. If only he was stronger. 

“First of all,” Misfire plopped himself down on Grimlock’s back, “I wouldn’t say anything to you with your arms crossed like that.” He plucked a dart from his armor and tossed it in Krok’s general direction. “You look like someone told Ultra Magnus that punctuation is cancelled.” 

Krok narrowed his optics at Misfire but then relaxed his posture. He sat on the floor with the rest of them. Crankcase settled in against the wall across the hall, casually resuming his text conversation with his dire wraith boyfriend. 

“You got nothing to be worried about, Max,” Misfire continued removing darts from his armor and chucking them at Krok, missing him every time. Darts bounced haphazardly all over the floor. “Megatron has that effect on a lot of people.” 

“Megatron had nothing to do with it.” Max contemplated leaving. He could get up and walk away right now. None of the Scavengers could stop him, not that they would even try. Spin would probably follow him though. While the rest of his quirky group of friends waited patiently, Spin shifted just enough to give Max a clear escape route. Somehow that simple gesture of understanding gave Max the courage he had been searching for. 

“It was Overlord.” Max spat the last word like a curse. He hated saying that name, not out of fear or superstition, but because objectively ‘Overlord’ was a good name that the bot it belonged to didn’t deserve it. As far as Max was concerned, that fragger didn’t deserve any name at all. 

“He was totally obsessed with Megatron. He talked about him all the time, often telling me how much I was like him. Since Megatron didn't give him the time of day, he took all his frustrations out on me, and he had a lot of frustrations. Right before he would do something particularly terrible, he’d get really specific.” Max found that once he started talking, he couldn’t stop. The words just tumbled out. “One time he told me that I had eyes just like Megatron, so bright, so vibrant. Then he drilled my optics completely out of their sockets.” 

“Primus!” Fulcrum whispered. 

“For some reason, when I looked into Megatron’s eyes...” Max snapped his fingers. “I was right back there, a barely functional pile of broken parts and spilled energon. All I could feel was his hands on my frame and his voice in my head. Strapped to that table. I knew what was coming next but I was powerless to stop it. I couldn’t- I wasn’t strong enough to-” 

“It wasn’t your fault.” Spinister cut him off. He used the authoritative tone that Max teasingly called his doctor-voice. Spin only spoke like that when he was 110% certain of what he was talking about, which didn't happen very frequently outside the operating room. 

Max blinked. He longed to believe it. 

“Not then and not now. Not ever.” 

“I should have been stronger.” 

“You are plenty strong.” Krok laid a gentle hand on Max’s forearm. 

“How?” 

“For one thing,” Grimlock sat up, rolling Misfire off his back in a heap. “You are here, and he is not.” 

“That’s right!” Misfire dusted himself off. “It takes a special kind of strength to survive. We all understand that! That’s why we get along so well.” 

“Maybe...” 

“Whaddya say we finish our game?” Misfire began collecting the darts he had scattered everywhere in his futile attempt to hit Krok. 

“Why? I already won.” Crankcase mumbled without looking up from his datapad. 

“You weren’t playing!” Misfire insisted, whipping a dart at him which bounced off the wall three feet above Crankcase’s head. 

“Thanks,” Max smiled, accepting Spinister’s assistance in getting to his feet. He always found comfort in the Scavengers dogged commitment to normalcy in the face of trauma. You get up, dust yourself off, and keep going, just like Misfire and his darts. “But first I want to go apologize to Megatron.” 

“You don’t have to,” Misfire waved off his concern. “He probably gets that all the time on a ship full of autobots.” 

“It would help me feel better. I don’t want him to think I have a problem with him. I’ll catch up with you later.” 

“I’ll go with you!” Spin piped up. 

“You don’t have to.” Max shook his head, touched by his concern. 

“Don’t have to what?” Spin cocked his head to one side. 

“Come with me to see Megatron.” 

“You don’t have to ask!” Spin’s optics glowed with amusement. “I already said that I’d go with you.” 

“Wait a minute-” Max began. 

“Yeah! We’ll all go!” Misfire shouted. He kicked at Crankcase. “Come on, Grumpybox! Get up!” 

“Whoa! I never said-” 

Krok folded his arms and stepped next to Max. “You know there’s no way to dissuade them now, right?” 

Max dragged a palm down his face and sighed. Although he didn’t need the help, he appreciated the support. “Alright then. Let’s get this over with.” 

They took the long way to Megatron’s office, navigating the maze-like lower levels of the Lost Light in order to circumvent the main area of the-floor-is-hot-lava competition. His size made him a tempting base, and still shaken from his experience earlier today, Max wasn’t quite ready to be unexpectedly pounced on by random bots. 

When they finally arrived at their destination, Max turned to his merry band of followers, led by Spinister. “Okay. Thanks for coming with me, but you all can wait out here. I won’t be long.” 

“Yeah. You. Wait. Here.” Spin narrowed his optics and punctuated each word by jabbing a finger at the rest of Scavengers. 

“He means you too, Spin.” Krok said. 

“No, he doesn’t! I’m his Emotional Support Helicopter. He needs me!” 

Max shook his head and knocked on the door, resigning himself to having a deadly purple shadow. 

“Come in!” 

Looking over his shoulder to smile at the Scavengers, Max entered Megatron’s office followed closely by Spinister. He left the door ajar so the rest of them wouldn’t feel left out, which they immediately took as an invitation to come in as well. 

“Oh. I wasn’t expecting you.” Megatron’s smile fell and he dimmed his optics. “Minimus is supposed to drop off some reports that need signing. I thought...” 

Max cringed at his reaction. He felt terrible. Maybe he should just forget the whole thing and leave. Turning slightly away, he found himself face to face with Spin. 

“You’re doing great so far!” Spin whispered loudly. 

“You really think so?” Max laughed. 

Spin nodded enthusiastically. Max laid a hand on Spin’s shoulder. “Thank you.” Calming his racing engine, he turned back to Megatron. He couldn’t let Spin down. 

“Look, Megatron. About before...” Max rubbed the back of his helm. “I want to apologize. I didn’t mean to lock all my weapons on you. In fact, that outburst had nothing to do with you and everything to do with Overlord.” 

Megatron’s optics widened in realization and he slowly rose to his feet. “Fortress Maximus-” 

“Please. Call me Max.” 

“Max.” Megatron nodded, tentatively taking a step towards him. The deliberateness of his actions made Max’s plating twitch. He hated seeing people be so careful around him. 

“I just wanted you to know that I don’t have any issues with you. Overlord talked at length about how much I reminded him of you, always before inflicting some violence against me that I was powerless to stop. When I looked into your optics earlier, all I could hear was his voice echoing in my head.” Even now, looking at Megatron, that cruel voice whispered. 

_You know, you have eyes just like him._

Shuffling a half step backwards, Max bumped into Spinister. His reassuring pressure chased away the tactile memory of energon slowly dripping from the empty sockets where his arms used to be, the horrible chill as it pooled beneath his mangled shoulders. 

“I’m so sorry. I had no intention of doing you any harm. I couldn’t stop the memories fast enough and I just reacted. I wish I could promise that it would never happen again, but…” Max steeled himself and met Megatron’s optics. “I decided to join the Lost Light on this inter-dimensional adventure because I couldn’t wait to live in a universe where Overlord never existed. Unfortunately,” Max tapped the side of his helm with a sad smile, “I guess I brought him with me.” 

Megatron considered everything that Max told him. He straightened his shoulders and seemed to come to some resolution. Stepping forward, he placed one hand on Max’s large shoulder, his grip firm, confident and secure. 

“Max, I want you to know something. As co-captain of this ship, the safety of my crew is my number one priority. You are under my protection. Always. No matter what. I will do everything in my considerable power to keep you safe. The next time you hear his voice, I want you to remember that he never once defeated me. He never even came close.” 

Max’s engine stalled. He stared at Megatron. No one had ever extended that level of comfort to him. Sure, his friends promised their support, but he knew with bitter certainty that no one could stand up to Overlord. Not really. Not even his in nightmares. There was only one person that had defeated Overlord, not just once, but every single time they fought. Now he stood before Max with quiet ferocity burning in his bright eyes, offering Max the protection that he so desperately desired. 

His supply of courage exhausted, Max moved on instinct. He rushed forward, flung his arms around Megatron and hugged him tight. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew that he’s probably going to have to apologize for this too, but right now Max didn’t care. To his surprise, Megatron shifted slightly so he could get his arms around Max’s tank treads and gently held him. Tears gathered in his eyes and Max concentrated each revolution of his engine, determined to not fall totally apart. 

Just when Max’s shoulders began to shake, Misfire shouted, “Group hug!!” Spin instantly cuddled against Max’s back, quickly joined by the rest of the Scavengers. Grimlock switched to bot mode because his little T-rex arms weren’t really suited for hugs. Dropping his head forward to rest on Megatron’s shoulder, Max sighed, venting out all of the trauma of the day. Even Crankcase nonchalantly leaned against him, still texting Cons4eva. Max burned every sensation of this moment into his processor. The next time he felt himself slipping back to Garrus 9, this is the memory that he would reach for. 

Megatron squeezed him tightly once more. Max eased back with a shaky smile. “If you don’t mind me saying so, you give great hugs.” 

“Well, I don’t know about that,” Megatron laughed. “But if I do, it’s because I have an excellent teacher.” 

At that moment, Minimus walked into Megatron’s office with a stack of datapads. Megatron’s face instantly lit up bright pink. 

Minimus looked up from the report he was reading. “Am I interrupting something?” 

“No!” Max said quickly, noticing Megatron’s blush. “We were just leaving! Thank you for everything, sir!” 

“Thank you for stopping by as well,” Megatron smiled, recovering his composure. “You didn’t need to apologize, but I appreciate you coming to talk to me. Remember what I told you. And if you ever need anything else, or just want to talk, my door is always open.” 

“Well, not always.” Spin narrowed his optics and glared at the door. “It was closed when we got here.” 

“Come on, Spin!” Max casually draped his arm around the helicopter’s shoulder and tugged him along. Spin instantly snugged into Max’s side and wrapped his arm around his waist. “We have a game to finish.” 

“I already finished it.” Crankcase mumbled. “But whatever. I guess we can play again.” 

“Hell yeah we can!” Misfire shouted, drawing his dart gun and taking aim at Crankcase. “You’re going down, Grumpybox!” He fired, missing his target entirely and striking Megatron on the chest. 

“AHHH! Everybody RUN!” Fulcrum took off out the door and raced down the hall. Grimlock switched back to dino mode and merrily gave chase. 

“What was that all about?” Minimus asked, reaching up to pluck the dart from Megatron’s chest. Noticing the suction cup mark left on his matte gray armor, Minimus lightly buffed the spot with the heel of palm. As Minimus meticulously polished Megatron’s armor, the soft blush returned to the co-captain's cheeks. 

“Don’t worry about it, Mins!” Misfire laughed. He turned to Megatron with a wicked grin and winked. “You’re welcome!” 

Minimus looked around in confusion while Megatron sputtered. Max met Megatron’s optics one more time before joining the Scavengers in another reckless round of Shoot Shoot Bang Bang. Megatron’s deep crimson optics glowed with amusement, so bright, so vibrant, so much like his own. 

This time Max didn’t feel any pain or shiver under the touch of ghosts from the past. Instead he smiled, remembering the warmth of his friends as he just heard one clear, confident voice. 

_You are under my protection. Always._

**Author's Note:**

> As always, thank you for reading!
> 
> I appreciate your kudos and love reading your comments!!
> 
> You can find me on tumblr at: lush-specimen.tumblr.com


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